TIFF24 REVIEW: Really Happy Someday [20XX]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 90 minutes
Director(s): J Stevens
Writer(s): Breton Lalama & J Stevens

It’s time for Z (Breton Lalama) to rebuild the staircase. That’s the metaphor he uses with his new vocal coach (Ali Garrison’s Shelly) to explain the fear and sense of uncertainty he has with his changing voice. Before taking testosterone, it was the one constant he could count on. People still talk about his performance as Éponine in Les Misérables and the aspiration to jump from Toronto to Broadway was always in the realm of possibility. But now Z is lost. Even changing the octave to sing “On My Own” can’t prevent his voice from cracking during an audition. With confidence shot, he wonders if he made a mistake. The hormone saved his life, but now it feels like it’s also destroying his dream.

Where so many trans stories find themselves focusing on the relationship and familial aspects of acceptance to allow a character to simply exist, J Stevens’ Really Happy Someday (co-written with Lalama) uses Z’s identity as a springboard towards a universal narrative about reinvention. Yes, it’s very much a trans story considering the reinvention at-hand is a result of testosterone treatment, but it’s also a human story that happens to feature a trans character. This distinction isn’t trivial either since it means that we can appreciate Z as a person first. By normalizing his existence, we can turn our attention to his struggle for purpose. Bigotry never enters the equation. Z’s search is about belief.

And not just in his capacity to sing in a new register with the same talent and resonance as before, but also in love. We see it often: a person letting shame prevent them from telling their partner bad news as a means of hiding the fact their silence might be about trust instead. Because Z and Danielle (Khadijah Roberts-Abdullah) had a plan. He would get his shot on Broadway and she would apply for a visa to join him in New York. But while that stage is his goal, it’s not a necessity. Not enough to erase his work towards renewed happiness via Shelly’s help. So, just like he’s held onto “On My Own” for too long, what else must he leave behind?

The result is as much an ending to present as it is an entrance into the future. It’s not without its second-guessing and frustrations, though. Should Z move to New York anyway once Danielle decides to go? Will vocal lessons be enough to solidify his voice in pursuit of a musical theater career or should he resign himself to being a bartender forever? Things get so dire that the option to stop testosterone treatments even rears its head. How could it not when it’s probably the simplest solution despite also being the one he’d regret most? The only way forward is therefore to strip away all excess and build himself back up. That’s when you discover what truly matters most.

Enter new friendships (Xavier Lopez’s Santi). Lovers (Katharine King So’s Sage). Songs (“Favorite Places”). Add the sense of freedom that comes from being single and devoted to oneself and Z finds the room to want things again instead of merely resenting that which he can no longer have. It’s about baby steps. Moving away from the path he was on to repave the one he needs. Gain confidence from fun. Relinquish the impossible expectations he places upon his own shoulders. And realize that he’s literally a different person now. Just like his body must change, so too must his dreams. Maybe not the endgame, but definitely the journey. Starting over isn’t the worst thing if it reminds you why you started in the first place.

Lalama delivers a fantastic performance in the lead role—really expressing the inner conflict that exposes how comfort and joy aren’t the same. It helps when the chemistry with supporting characters is this good as both Garrison and Lopez provide the perfect amount of respect and championing to push Z back on-track. I love the juxtaposition between Roberts-Abdullah and King So too. By utilizing a crossword puzzle as a mirroring device, we recognize just how far apart process and intent can be. How quick we are to pretend as a means to grow closer without acknowledging that doing so can take us further from ourselves. As long as you put yourself first, you can ensure everything that follows will enhance rather than suppress.